Welcome To The Black Parade
by TheRiverIsASong
Summary: Seventeen year old Rosetta Amelia Stonemason has seen the world as she moved, place to place, to be with her family after her mother dies. When her father, just coming out of jail, takes custody of her in Beacon Hills, will her eyes see a brand new world in California or will it crumble around her, seeing the truth of Beacon Hills? -On Hold
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One: Welcome To The Family**

Rosetta Amelia Stonemason. Ever since her mother first called her Amy, she has been living along the name, telling everyone only that- Amy. If you asked for her name, she would tell you Amy, just that and never anything longer nor shorter. She was mostly hidden in the crowds back in New Jersey where she lived with her older step-sister, Miley, who was twenty-three years old. Her older step-brother, Matthew, who was twenty, almost twenty-one, started to take care of her in London when Miley had to go back to college. In London she made the high honor role list, being the smartest student in the school, but was moved to New York where her older sister, who was nineteen years old, took care of her, and ever since her mother died, she has bounced around from one sibling to another, from family to family, never staying for more than a year. Finally she goes off to Beacon Hills where her father would take care of her as he just got out of prison due to him having to have robbed a bank. Although, Amy has been doubting herself to move with her father due to him beating her repeatedly, which no one had found out about. Making the decision, Amy decided that it wouldn't hurt, or at least she hoped it wouldn't hurt, to move to Beacon Hills, California to live with him for another year since she was seventeen years old.

"You're more beautiful than I remember." Her father hugged her, his left hand on her golden blonde hair as he right hand was on her back, him smiling at her.

"You look the same." Amy exclaimed as she looked at his same old face, the same haircut that he always had with the same dress code that he followed.

"Last time I saw you, you were just eight years old with dark brown hair, but you still have those baby blue eyes that you got from your mother." Her father asked as he took Amy's bag, putting it in the trunk as he came back to look at Amy.

"From my mother." Amy whispered as she looked down at her feet before getting into the jeep, trying to forget what he said.

"You'll fall to pieces when you see Beacon Hills." Her father told her as he got in the other side of the jeep, looking for his keys.

"What's it like?" Amy asked as she looked ahead of her at the families walking to and from the airport.

"There's a hospital, a school, and plenty of woods it seems. My cellmate, McQuire, told me how his grandson lived in Beacon Hills, describing it to him when he sent him a letter every week. He recommended that once I got, I should keep you in Beacon Hills just until you turn eighteen." Her father described to her as she played with her fingers, her hands laying on her Shea Cutout Halter Fit Flare dress, matching her Nolan Blk Silky black high heels, which were her favorite kinds of high heels.

"Sounds beautiful." She simply replied as he pulled away from the side of the airport, driving towards the main road as he glanced once or twice over at Amy who looked out the window.

"You'll have friends instantly with those looks." Her father commented, staring her body, almost like he was checking her out, but looked away when she looked at him.

"That's not what I want." Amy replied as she brushed her golden blonde hair out her eyes and behind her ear before turning to look out the window again.

"What do you want?" Her father soon grew frustrated as she rejected all his ideas on what she wanted.

"To have my mother back. To live back in Florida with her." Amy shouted the first sentence out at her father, then calming down with the second sentence, barely saying it.

As her father kept himself quiet, he pulled into a driveway that soon caught the attention of a brick house, the size looking like it had five floors, not including the basement or the attic. Once the car fully stopped, Amy opened her door, one foot following the other as she got out of the car, staring at the balcony on the third floor, the porch in the back yard, the porch in the front yard, and who knows what else was awaiting upon her arrival for her to see.

Walking inside, she saw a spiral staircase that went up to a book room, just like library, only a little larger than the average library. Coming back down from the book room, she walked past the kitchen, going into the main entrance where two grand staircases laid on each side of the room, meeting in the middle where a bridge-like floor was sitting, leading into a variety of rooms. Checking out the bottom floor, she found the living room, the dining room, the kitchen, a hallway that led to the pool room, seven bedrooms, a staircase down to the basement, and three bathrooms. Going up to the second floor, she saw ten bedrooms, a staircase leading down to the garage, four bathrooms, another kitchen that was leading into a backroom where the storage was kept, and a staircase that went up to the next floor. Upon the third floor waited seventeen bedrooms, an art room, a music room, a storage room, a private room, an office, two closets, and a door leading up to a hide away room. Reaching the fourth floor, she found eleven bedrooms, three offices, four bathrooms, a small library, an exercise room, and a play room. Finally getting to the fifth floor, she discovered a staircase leading to the attic, three bedrooms, five bathrooms, a study, a computer room, and a quiet room that held a few books, a couple notebooks, and sections that were rooms to study in. When she finished her journey, she decided on a bedroom on the fifth floor where the walls were painted a light blue, two dressers were connected together under five shelves, a bookcase where there were dozens of books, a queen size bed, a TV put in the corner with a couch and a table in front of it, a walk-in closet, a lock on the door, a mirror hanging above the TV, a desk where you could study, two tables on the opposite sides of the bed, against the wall, a lamp hanging over the bookcase where a beanbag was sitting, a white carpet where all the furniture sat upon, and, the best part of the room, her favorite part, a balcony that could fit ten people.

"That's my favorite part, too." Her father appeared behind her as he set her bag down next to her queen sized bed.

"How'd you know?" Amy asked him as she fell against the bed, looking up at her father as he gave a small smile before leaning against the wall.

"Everyone loves the balcony." He said, staring at the window like it was all he could think about at the moment, his eyes giving a sudden sparkle.

"How could you afford this?" She asked him, unsure of how he would answer as she saw him fumble with his words.

"When I was seven, my mother told me, 'If you save this one hundred dollar bill, and continue to save, you'll be able to afford a house big enough to serve one million elephants.' Now, I know this doesn't look like it could serve a room for each of the one million elephants, but it's big enough for us." He described, going back into his memories as he quoted his mother word for word.

"First the first time in my life, even though I'd swear to never say it, I love you." She whispered as she got off the bed, hugging her father as he hugged her back, his nose smelling her hair as he whispered back, "I love you, too."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: Carry On The Afterlife**

Laying in her bed, under the covers, she began to dream about her mother, the way she braided her hair, the way she danced when her favorite song came on, the way she always smiled when she saw her. Sometimes they would go on trips together and her mother would call them mini dates together. At random times, the best times, she'd make up stupid jokes, making her laugh anyways at how stupid they sounded. When she died, it felt like nothing was the way it used to be, not even standing in her room felt the same without her to be in there. She cherished the one of two last items of her mother, one of them being a necklace, just some string with a locket on it. Her mother made it when she was a little girl, around twelve, and has worn it since she made it. It's been on her neck for thirteen years, her taking it off to give to her as she told her the story of the necklace. She told her, "When you where this, it means that someone loves you. When you pass it on, that means you love that person. I want you to pass this on to your love, no matter if it's your daughter, your son, your oldest child, your youngest child, your husband, your boyfriend- anyone."

The other item that she held dear to her heart was a charm bracelet that had the whole world on it- the Eiffel tower, the Statue of Liberty, the Leaning Tower of Pisa- everything you could imagine, all the great sightings put on the charm bracelet. Her mother told her that whenever she was frightened, happy, sad, mad, terrified, angry, upset- any emotion that she should touch the charm bracelet and think of someone she loved. When she was sad, she'd always touch it and think of her mother, loving her so dearly. Everything reminded her of her mother, making her want to die inside, but she knew that's not what her mother wanted. What mother wants their child to suffer for their parent or parents dying?

Laying in bed, she thought of her mother and all of her greatest memories with her.

With the sun burning in her eyes, Amy slowly woke up, staring at her clock to see that it was six thirty, about an hour to get ready for school and head out to go to school. Pulling the covers off her, she walked over to her dressers, searching for an outfit to wear to her first day. Over dressy. Under dressy. Too boring. Too excited. Not enough. Too much. Not matching. Badly matching. Clashing. Falling apart. Not going well. Not fitting. Too tight to fit. After twenty minutes of clothing options, she finally found her outfit- a pair of INC International Concepts jeans, a black spaghetti strapped shirt, an INC International Concept one shoulder shirt, her favorite pair of heels- Michael Kors Candace sandals, her mother's charm bracelet, and her mother's necklace. Leaving her golden blonde hair down, she gave it a quick brush through and did her make up, making sure nothing was smudged before she picked up her Phillip Lim drawstring bag, swinging it, along with her hand, over her shoulder as she grabbed her phone, walking out of her room.

Walking down the stairs, she saw her father at the bottom, waiting as he held his coffee in a mug in his hand, smiling as he said, "Look at you, gorgeous."

"Everything alright?" She asked as she made it to the bottom, stopping to see her father who shifted his mug in his hands.

"Gonna be gone tonight. Can you handle one night alone?" He asked as he walked backwards by one step, looking from her eyes to the floor.

"I can handle it." She confirmed as she walked over to the door, letting an invisible tear slip down her cheek before opening it and shutting it.

"Your personal records say that you've been moving your whole life, is that correct?" The principal asked as she flipped each page, reading quickly before looking up.

"No longer than a year." She commented as he looked from her face back down at the file.

"You set a school on fire, started many fights, and managed to make high honor role all in one year," He began, reading on before looking up, "At different schools."

"I wasn't that bad," She lied, her voice getting a little high before she confessed. "Alright, I was bad, but it was only because my family wanted to move me to my cousin's for a year."

"Is there anything else I should know or will I see you not setting this school on fire?" He asked, a sudden fear of what she might do.

"I stopped setting things on a fire last year, and even then it was a barn, so that wasn't bad," She tried to get him to feel better, but she could see herself making it worse. "Can I just go to class?"  
"I'll take you to your class." Part of her thought he was being nice and the other part was thinking that he only wanted to take her because he thought she might burn something down again.

"Do you prefer to be introduced as Rosetta Stonemason or is there something else I should say?" He asked, looking over at her who only said, "Amy."

"Class, this Amy Stonemason. She's new here and I'd like you to make her feel welcome." The principal said as the teacher instructed her to sit in the far back, the corner of the room.

Walking to the back, she saw people staring at her, watching her make her way to the back of the room. She's done this plenty of times to ignore the glares of students, but this one student was making her bend in a way she didn't want to. Sitting down at the back, she dropped her bag next to her feet as she stared up front as the principal left and the teacher continued to teach. She felt the eyes of the same student that made her uncomfortable still looking at her as she moved her eyes to look at the window, wishing for them to look away from her. Why did she feel it was harder to blend in at this school than it was at all the rest of her schools?


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three: The Letter

Listening to the teacher, she slowly drew her mother's necklace into her notebook, not bothering to write down any of the notes the teacher was writing down. Glancing up, she saw the same student, the one that made her want to run out of the school staring back at her. Dropping her pen, she stared at him who stared at her, until he finally looked away, looking up at the teacher before continuing to write the notes. Just as the teacher took a breath, the bell rang, instantly all of the students jumping out of their desks to get out of the class, wanting to talk to their friends. Gathering her stuff, she walked out of the door, heading over to her locker as she saw few students staring at her, the news of a new student suddenly disappearing, which she didn't mind. Opening her locker, she shoved in her books before looking at her schedule, seeing that she had Spanish next on her agenda and she quickly shut her locker, heading over to Spanish.  
Talking with the teacher, she was pointed over to, again, the corner of the room where she sat down, waiting for the torture of Spanish to end. Once the bell rang, two people came running inside, one of them, of course, being the same person who made her skin crawl. Walking over, he sat down next to me, his friend sitting in front of him as he stared at me. Starting the lesson, she watched the teacher talk in Spanish, writing English sentences on the board, asking for students to translate them into Spanish.  
"Amy," The teacher said, catching my attention as he said, "Read this sentence."  
"Vas a estar escribiendo un ensayo trescientos palabra sobre la guerra española-estadounidense esta noche." Once she finished, the whole class groaned as the teacher went on, saying how our assignment who to write a three hundred word essay on the Spanish-American war and to get it in by tomorrow.  
As she started to draw a dying flower in a jar on her notebook, she peered up to see him still staring at her and she looked back down, beginning to draw two arms leading down to them holding hands. Minutes passed by, finally reaching the bell to ring, making her get her books quickly, rushing out of the door as she saw him and his friend hurry to get up. Reaching around the corner, she held her breath as she saw her locker, stopping from almost running to walking as she touched it. Opening her locker, she quickly hid her face in it, watching him and his friend pass by, searching for her like she was the most wanted person on Earth. When they passed, she grabbed her math books, walking away from her locker only to have him stop her just outside the math door, his friend next to him.  
"You've been staring at me all day." She claimed, staring at him as she leaned up against the wall.  
"There's something about you. You're special, not like anyone around here." He said, looking into her eyes like he was searching for a lost item.  
"Usually we'd start with saying hello, like introducing." Amy gripped the side of her books, watching him look into her eyes, her eyes looking back into his.  
"Scott McCall. That's my friend, Stiles Stilinski." Scott introduced himself and his friend who looked a little sick or dizzy, like he was dead.  
"There's a start. Look, can we do this after school or something?" She asked as she stared at the clock, seeing a minute and twenty seconds before the bell would ring.  
"At your house?" Scott asked, wanting to dive in further into the conversation that he was interested in.  
"My father won't be home tonight, just to warn you. The house will be all alone, just me, maybe you. Here's my address, think it over, and maybe I'll let you inside. Now, after school, okay?" Amy said as she wrote her address down on a piece of paper, handing it over to Scott before pushing pass, going into math as the bell rang.

Hearing the final bell ring, she took her books in her hands, about to leave when a girl put her hand on her shoulder, looking at her as she began to say, "You're that new girl, Amy, right?"  
"Yeah." She mumbled as she watched the girl start to smile, her getting nervous as she wanted to know why she was looking for her.  
"Lydia Martin," She said, holding out her hand as Amy hesitated to shake it, but she finally decided, shaking it as Lydia continued to talk. "Where'd you buy those shoes?"  
"My step-sister bought them for me back in New Jersey." She said, hearing a compliment on the shoes as Lydia walked out the door with Amy following.  
"I'm having a party next week and wanted to know if you'd want to come." Lydia suddenly said, inviting her to a party when she barely knew her.  
"Parties don't like me." She said as she brushed back her hair, pulling it over her shoulder as she looked at Lydia who was staring at her.  
"It'll be the best party you've ever went to. Trust me, there will be plenty of guys there." Lydia said, trying to persuade her into saying yes and going to the party.  
"I'd rather stay home, but thanks for the offer." She said as she began to split from Lydia who whispered, "Who doesn't go to a party for boys?"

Reaching her house, she opened the door, finding a pile of mail on the floor, which she picked up before shutting the door. Going through each letter, all she found was bills and letters to her father until she reached one with her name on it. The strange part was that there was no return address, only her name followed by her address, nothing else. Holding it in her hand, she took out a bottle of orange juice, a small bottle, tossing the rest of the mail on the table in the kitchen before walking over to the stairs. After going up each floor, she managed to reach her room, tossing her bag next to the door before setting the orange juice on the table next to her bed. Beginning to open the letter, she ripped the side open, seeing a piece of blank paper inside. As she took it out, she put the envelope on the bed, undoing the paper that was folded. What she saw on the paper would be something she would never forget.


End file.
